Living Life Expletively

You know when life wallops you in the soft parts of your head and turns things upside down leaving little room in your bonce for anything else – and then here comes Thanksgiving and what now?  – it’s Christmas? – and crikey Mikey, I haven’t blogged for a whole spletiving* month?

Well that isn’t at all what happened to me.  What happened was that I ate a dodgy kumquat one day and fell into an hallucogenic stupor where I believed fully – and with some effing dismay – in an elaborate storyline with plot points including, but not limited to: arson, love, hate and winter heating allowance; roof slates, insanity and uneven bites.  Now, on this day of Festivus, I have woken up and realized it was all just a crazy dream.  Whether it happened or not is beside the point – I don’t have to believe in it.  In fact, I don’t. Believe it, I mean.  Instead I believe that:

1. Eating broccoli makes me strong and thoughtful

2. And that love is real.

And that’s it.  The rest I’m not sure about, but that’s OK.
There are questions though, many questions at this time of year.  Come, all ye faithful, I mean really, come on!  And when you’re on, Come off it!  Whether or not you believe in the Christmas story surely you must concede God can’t be wild about how we choose to spend it consuming and consuming and, “oh, go on then” consuming a bit more like demented flocks of reward-points-earning, store-credit-having, remortgage-lamenting, stomach-ulcer-developing, wild-eyed, murderously store-employee-trampling ovines?

Problemchild 1 took the baby Jesus out of his manger the other day and replaced him with a bit of ceramic Nessie who was coming from the East bearing gift vouchers for the new king.  Then she ran around warbling “Nessie in the manger, no crib for a bed…” for about half an hour longer than was strictly funny.  (She gets that from me) But the point was well taken.  We might as well have Nessie be part of the Christmas as much as anything else. Get Scottish tourism in on the cash-deer.  Why the bloody-nosed not? All our traditions are such strange amalgams of customs old and new:  Santa only wears red and white because some adman at Coca Colaearly last century wasn’t so keen on the blue and white;  How the virgin birth of the son of a jealous desert God ever came to be associated with an antlered ungulate from Northern climes with an angry nose infection, is a story more convoluted as the one that links cocoa beans from the tropics, bunnies and eggs with the hammering of a man to a cross far back in sand-swirly time in an rocky, unpromising land that people will fight savagely over for millennia. ….And breathe…

I’m not really that wild about it.  ‘Scuse my dramatic breathiness. I can’t even get worked up about the mass massive stupidity any more. We all know this stuff, we all think it every year and we all keep right on with the silly things we believe, emotional creatures that we are.  So do I. I love Christmas, I buy right into the tree and the lights and the ridiculous paper hats that add a tragicomic aspect to the Christmas Day family bust-up on Eastenders.  And I do think there are millions of deeply good people who embody the Christmas spirit – which is a bloody good idea after all – be nice to your neighbour. Still, it’s all a bit mad.  Why can’t we be gooder all the year long?  It’s hard, isn’t it?  Being good an’ that.

I’ve missed the bloggy life.  If I don’t get around to see y’all in the next few days, please don’t be taking it personal, like.  I visit people only as Lord Time allows, randomly, without rhyme nor a smidge of reason.  Except for fatmammycat and Pat.  They rhyme.

Also, here is a book you might like to buy. It’s called Homepages and I’m in it but you should buy it anyway.

Love to you this Christmas, blogchums; love and pie.

*My pletives aren’t ex; they are very current and uttered full-throatedly in the moment.

29 thoughts on “Living Life Expletively”

  1. my copy of the book came the other day and it fell open at your offering first. I hooted with laughter at the opening lines……..tremendous stuff…….then I had to go to work so the laughter stopped. Have a great christmas Sam, both you and yours…….


  2. I know for a fact that the Loch Ness Monster is the step-mother of the Easter Bunny. So you see it’s all connected.

    Glad you’re back.

  3. Merry Christmas, Sam, it’s so nice to hear you prattling away in the mad old style! I think you need a fruit tester – I’d do it myself if I lived in your neighbourhood.

  4. I had to Google Kumquat, to make certain that I had the correct thing in mind. And I had. I am one of those that can take or leave most fruit and my weekly shop has the feel of wishful thinking more than intent. Mostly I hold that they have gotten too good at growing these things. A bit like carrots, where at every eatery you attend, there is a pile of the stuff heaped with the dedication of a JCB driver rather than a Chef.
    Anyhow, Kumquats are nasty sour pointless little things, much more for the eyes than the mouth.

  5. is there something wrong in nailing a santa to a tree at this time of year?

    glad you’re back. since you last wrote I became a grandad again.

    hope you have a great festive season sam :)

  6. I ungulated for the very first time the other day, and liked it! As my Dad used to say, it’s never too late to ungulate, and he was right. Except look where it got him.

    Oh, and I too join the chorus of those who welcome you back. And of those who wish you a happy Christmas. And of those who append an


  7. Sorry to be late with Xmas wishes, was off Christmassing in Ingerland, where I bumped into Doctor Maroon and as a result am on my arse until New Years. He is everything I expected, and even less. Gawd bless Scotland.

  8. We all should be better to each other, all the time. But I suspect that it’s too much of a strain for most people, who prefer to limit their philanthropy to one specific season, and plus you can’t market the milk of human kindness like you can holiday glitz, and so we have the crazy mess we now have which we call Christmas. I tell myself that it’s about a good person’s unselfish acts, just like I tell myself that saluting the flag is more of a prayer for how things ought to be in America.

    Happy New Year, Sam. You be careful with those kumquats, now! I had a bad persimmon myself the other day.

  9. What’s with this Hogwhatsit? Was it invented by Scottish Tourism to get the Angles to travel North, for auld lang syne? Anyways, may the first foot in your door be that of a tall dark stranger in a kilt made of shortcake, bringing glad tidings for 2009!

  10. It’s the silly season! If you can get away with not buying things it’s really quite fun. God said: Put your life on hold for two weeks and be drunken, and it was done.

  11. I’m more of a reader than a poster here….but had to add my twa pence. I had a chuckle with the “Nessie in the manger”, and the whole description of this silly season. Hope your holidays went well, and a Happy New Year.

  12. So glad to see you posting again missus! I’ve been accpted into the Motherhood of Grumpy Old Bags, so personally I’d kick Christmas into touch and replace it with a gin fest and a de tox massage. But I’m glad you love it.

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